


Hot Santa

by poor_dumb_killian



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 05:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5485592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poor_dumb_killian/pseuds/poor_dumb_killian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having been coerced into the line to see the mall Santa by her best friend, Emma comes face-to-face with the world's hottest Santa Claus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to my Once Upon a Secret Santa, the-fangirl-inside-me!! I hope you like this silly little fic of Emma falling for a fake-bearded Killian. Im sorry I was a bit MIA as far as messaging you went, but personal matters kept me away from Tumblr for a good chunk of December. I hope this little fic makes up for it.

Emma hated Christmas.

 _A lifetime of disappointment could do that to you_ \- she thought bitterly as she made her way to the center of the mall where her friend worked. The mall was decorated with green and red and silver. Gaudy glittering decor stretched as far as the eye could see, and it made her even more miserable.

“Emma!” Ruby chirped as she approached the absurd mall Santa display. Emma hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing her best friend at work yet, but nearly keeled over laughing at the ridiculous picture Ruby painted in her short elf skirt and pointed green shoes.

“What are you wearing?” she asked as she wiped her joyful tears, “You look absolutely ridiculous.”

“Yea, yea,” Ruby shrugged, “You know I’m just doing it to help out Mulan. She couldn’t find enough help this year.”

“Maybe it’s because of the uniforms,” Emma couldn’t help but poke fun at the outrageous ensemble.

Ruby chuckled, “Maybe,” but was interrupted as customers left the Santa chair area to purchase their picture from Ruby’s counter.

Emma glanced about as she waited for the transaction to end. The line wrapped all the way around a little fenced off courtyard. The Santa was around the corner from where Emma was chatting with Ruby, but she couldn’t see him from where they were standing.

Not that it mattered - even when she believed in the old bird, he never did anything for her. Santa always seemed to skip the foster homes and orphanages.

“I still have twenty minutes until my break,” Ruby interrupted her musings, “Why don’t you get in line and tell Santa what you want?”

“What?!” Emma asked incredulously. But Ruby just kept smiling at her with a wolfish expression. “Why would I want to tell a stranger what I want for Christmas? I don’t even _like_ Christmas, Rubs, remember?”

“Oh, I think you may change your mind,” Ruby winked and Emma was even more confused.

_Why would sitting on some old guys lap change my mind about this stupid holiday?_

“Could you just trust me, Emma?” Ruby looked at her with imploring eyes, before she smirked in a wicked way, “Or are you going to make me dare you? I know you can’t back down from a challenge.”

“I really don’t understand why I have to go wait in this stupid line,” she huffed and crossed her arms - mad that her friend knew her so well. “It’ll take longer than twenty minutes, anyways.”

“I’ll tell Santa not to dally since I can’t have lunch until you make it through,” she shoved her in the direction of the end of the line, “It will be worth me waiting a bit for you, _trust me_.”

Emma didn’t like it at all. She knew Ruby was up to something, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what.

 ----------------

Killian hated this job.

He shuffled another sniffling child off of his lap and back to her mother - his fake smile plastered across his face the whole time as he said in a jolly, low voice, “Merry Christmas!!”

A throat clearing to his left drew his attention to Ruby. He wasn’t sure who had the worse costume to wear. He was hot and the fake beard itched, but at least he didn’t have shoes with pointy toes and a ridiculous green elf hat.

“I have a friend standing in line to see you,” her eyes sparkled with wolfish intent.

“I’m not interested Lucas.” A few months ago this gig would’ve been a dream come true. He hadn’t been hit on by so many women in such a small timeframe ever before; and he had been hit on plenty in his lifetime. But his man-whoring days were behind him, and he didn’t intend to start up again.

“Well, she’s standing in line and I can’t leave for lunch until she talks to Santa,” he wanted to grumble that he wasn’t bloody Santa - he just needed the extra money to get his nephew the best present he could for Christmas - but there were at least a half dozen small children nearby so he held his tongue as she continued. “So, don’t lollygag, I’m hungry.”

Ruby turned and left him to deal with the next brat in line. For the next twenty minutes he droned on with the same stupid “jolly” smile on his face. One little girl wanted a science kit, another little boy wanted barbies - he just smiled and told them he would see what his elves could put together for them by Christmas and shooed them away as quickly as possible.

He deposited another set of small feet on the ground and a flash of blonde hair caught his attention as the mother ushered her kid along to Ruby. He couldn’t get a good look at her - too many people still in his way - but he noticed her foot tapping impatiently on the ground and a lack of small feet next to her.

_She must be Ruby’s friend._

Killian scooped up the next toddler, who immediately started to wail upon being placed on his lap. The mother tried soothing the boy, but it was to no avail. He couldn’t even ask him what he wanted for Christmas, just settled for taking a picture with the red-faced child and passing him back to his mum.

With more people removed from the line, he got more flashes of the impatient blonde waiting to see him. He saw high cheekbones and arms crossed defiantly across her chest. She looked irritated and beautiful. He his heartbeat pick up it’s pace as her jade eyes met his and couldn’t help but smirk under his fake beard while a shocked look crossed her face.

_Ruby must not have told her I’m not an old man._

He only half paid attention to the next child’s outrageous requests, his eyes constantly shifting back to the blonde - who seemed to be looking anywhere but at him now. His view of her was completely unobstructed; he took in her long, slender legs capped off with brown riding boots. Her skin looked like porcelain - soft and smooth - he had an urge to run his fingers up her jaw and bury his hand in her beautiful blonde curls.

She was a bloody vision to behold…. and boy did he want to hold her. He had a feeling that being with her would be much more fulfilling than his days of bedding random women.

He had one kid to go, and he intended to be quick about it. But the little girl seemed pretty insistent on listing off everything she hoped for: a little brother, a Tinkerbelle DVD, a pony. That wasn’t enough though, she had to also list all the reasons she was a good girl that year and why she deserved to get a pony.

She was an adorable wee-one named Sandy, and he took the time to humor her. He could feel green eyes burning through him as he carried on a conversation of pony care and upkeep  - ultimately convincing her maybe a pony wasn’t the best choice… _yet_.

Sandy was fairly adamant she would be ready for the responsibilities next year. “I’ll be six and _much more_ responsible,” she assured him with confidence.

He deposited her gently back on the ground with a genuine smile on his face, “Well, be a very good girl and we can discuss it again next year, Sandy.”

“Yes, Mr. Santa,” she said as she hugged her mom’s leg, “I promise to be the best little girl ever!”

He waved goodbye and gave her a jovial “Merry Christmas” before turning his attention to the line - and _her_.

She had a whimsical smile on her face as she watched Sandy leave through the archway and towards Ruby. “Hello, love,” he said in his normal accented voice - forgoing on the jolly tone. Her eyes snapped to his, and he watched as a lovely shade of pink bloomed on her cheeks. “And what might your name be?”

He got the satisfaction of watching the blush spread down her neck and disappear below the line of her blouse. He desperately wished to know how far it crept down her body.

But first - he wanted to know her name.

“You were very sweet with Sandy,” she said, ignoring his question.

“Aye, she was an excellent debater for a five-year-old,” he couldn’t stop smiling - even if he wanted to - which was a new change of pace while in his Santa garb. He stretched his gloved hand out to her, “But I can’t grant your Christmas wish if I don’t know your name, lass.”

She eyed his hand skeptically, “I’m a grown woman, I’m not sitting on your lap.”

“I’m fairly certain Ruby won’t be giving you an option,” he smirked at her crossed arms and scowl, “She is the picture-counter elf, after all, she will know.” Her sigh and grumble were overdramatic and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her antics, “I won’t bite - and I had a background check for the job, so I can’t be too much of a scoundrel, can I?”

She rolled her eyes, but he saw a flash of a grin cross her face before she quickly concealed it, “Just because you don’t have a record, doesn’t mean you aren’t a creep.”

“Emma Swan just get on his damn lap,” Ruby huffed from the archway, “We aren’t leaving until you take a picture.”

 _Emma_ \- it suited her.

“I hate you so much right now,” Emma grumbled as she stomped her way towards him and stared him down with a look that could kill. “I know how to break bones.”

“That I don’t doubt, _Emma_ ,” her name came out as more of a purr, which caused her skin to flush once more.

 _Turning her different shades of red could quickly become my favorite hobby_.

 ----------------

Sitting on his lap was a bad idea.

His thigh was firm and steady below her. The musky smell of the old Santa suit couldn’t mask a distinctly male cologne that was currently assaulting her senses.

She had not expected to find a young man sitting in the Santa throne, and she certainly wasn’t ready for a soft accent and the shock of blue eyes. She had a very real urge to rip his fake beard off so she could see the rest of his face.

Somehow, from Ruby’s insistence she stand in line to meet him, Emma had a feeling the rest of him wouldn’t disappoint. And if all of that wasn’t enough, he was also adorable with small children.

“Have you been a good girl this year, Emma?” he basically purred in her ear - his hot breath ghosting over her skin sent a shiver down her spine.

She finally chanced glancing directly at him and found his too-blue eyes sparkling. She was sure he had a wide grin hidden under his beard and had to once again fight the urge to snatch it right off his face.

Instead, she opted for rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, “What would be the fun in that?”

“Ooooh-” he winked at her and a jolt of want shot straight through her body, “You’re a tough lass, aren’t you?”

“Can we just take the stupid picture so I can go to lunch?” She looked at Ruby imploringly, “I’m starving.”

 _And really need to get away from hot Santa_ \- she added in her mind. His accented voice was doing things to her, so they needed to leave before she did something brash. There were too many small children present to be scarred for life if she were to grab Santa, rip off his beard and kiss him senseless.

“Don’t be a grinch, Emma,” Ruby grinned, “Tell Santa what you want for Christmas.”

Her arms still crossed, she huffed in defeat and looked back into his bright eyes, “I would like my friends to _mind their own damned business_ for Christmas this year, Santa.” She didn't think it was possible for his eyes to sparkle more, but he proved her wrong.

She really, really wanted to see what his smile looked like.

“Controlling other people’s thoughts and feelings falls a little outside of my wheelhouse, Swan,” he chuckled, “How about a pony? You seem responsible enough to care for one.”

“Oh, God, no,” she shook her head, a smile falling across her lips without realizing it as she pictured his spirited debate with a five-year-old just a few minutes ago, “I can’t even keep a houseplant alive - living things are definitely outside of my skillset.”

He threw his head back as laughter bubbled up from deep in his chest. She shifted her weight on his thigh, feeling more than a little thrown-off by how attracted she was to a man she hadn’t even gotten a good look at yet.

“Alright, fair enough, nothing breathing.”

 ----------------

Killian was sure that Emma Swan was a siren sent to lead him to his doom.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Something deep down inside him ignited when her eyes first met his. He knew immediately he needed to know her. He wanted to sweep her off of her feet and never let her go.

This was a very foreign feeling for him, but he had no intentions of fighting it. Emma, on the other hand, seemed to be steadfast on ignoring the pull between them.

A fair number of women - most of which were mothers who decided to ask Santa for something herself once she caught sight of him - had sat on his lap in the last few weeks. They generally wanted something humdrum and boring for their kitchen. Somehow he was sure Emma wouldn’t be like them - but it would be fun to see her reaction.

“How about a nice, new set of pans for you kitchen?”

“I am the world’s worst cook,” she managed to get out between laughter, “You would never want to eat anything that came out of my kitchen.”

He chuckled, not disappointed in the slightest by her reaction.

“Alright, why don’t you let me take you out to dinner instead?” It slipped out of his mouth before he even knew what he was saying. He felt her stiffen on his leg, and knew he had screwed up.

“I -” she stammered, “Uh - I don’t know if…”

“Emma,” Ruby chided from her spot at the arch, “I’m starving, so just agree to it so we can go to lunch. Because at this rate, we’re never leaving.”

Killian rejoiced internally at Ruby’s interference, hoping it would be enough to convince Emma to go out with him.

Emma sighed heavily as her posture slumped, “See what I mean about them needing to mind their own business?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he grinned, “Her meddling seems to be working in my favor at the moment, so I won’t complain.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she said, less than enthusiastically, but he’d take what he could get, “When did you want to go?”

“I have tomorrow off,” he was trying to stamp down his excitement, afraid it would be too obvious and send her running, “Pick you up at seven?”

“Or,” he wasn’t at all surprised she had a counter offer to present, “I could meet you there at seven.”

“Don’t trust me, Swan?” He grasped at his heart dramatically, “You wound me!”

She ignored his pleads, “Where am I meeting you?”.

He already knew where he wanted to take her, it was his favorite Italian place in town - and that had nothing to do with his mate’s mother owning it. “Do you know where Mamma Maria’s is?”

“Yes,” she looked at him skeptically, “but don’t you need a reservation?”

“Dont worry, I know a guy.”

 ----------------

Over the last twenty-four hours Emma had managed to convince herself that she only agreed to dinner with him so she could see what he looked like.

Nothing more, nothing less.

But that didn’t account for her obvious nerves as she approached the restaurant.

She opened the door of the quaint building, and was immediately greeted by the hostess, “You must be Miss. Swan.”

She was taken aback by the stranger’s knowledge of her, and felt her defenses immediately kick in. “How did you know that?”

“Mr. Jones told me to keep an eye out for a beautiful blonde,” the hostess shrugged.

She felt her cheeks burn hot - suddenly feeling sheepish about snapping at her to begin with - so she nodded and followed the hostess through the restaurant.

 _Mr. Jones_ \- she still didn’t even know his name. He wasn’t allowed to break character while playing Santa, and Ruby had outright refused to tell her. Even though it was her fault Emma agreed to this date in the first place.

They approached a table where a dark haired man sat with his back to her. His hair was well trimmed, but a touch on the long side on top.

 _Perfect for running my fingers through_ \- she mused before mentally scolding herself. She was here to sate her curiosity about his appearance. She had to keep her inappropriate thoughts at bay if she was going to make it through this date.

He was tapping his long fingers on the table, clearly antsy as he waited for her to arrive. She wondered if he worried she wouldn’t show. She hadn’t given him any reason to believe she would - other than the threat of bodily harm from Ruby if she found out Emma had stood him up.

“Mr. Jones,” the hostess spoke as they made their final approach and he jumped from his seat very ungracefully. Emma had to withhold her snort of laughter as he grabbed for his chair before it slammed onto the ground.

The first thing she noticed was how red his ears burned when he was embarrassed. The second thing she noticed was his strong jaw with perfect stubble as he sheepishly scratched at his ear.

Then his bright eyes locked on hers, and his lips curled up into a smile. It was dazzling and her heart stuttered in her chest as he reached for her hand.

“Hello, Swan,” he brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles.

 _I am so screwed_ \- she realized immediately.

 ----------------

Killian was sure he must be dreaming.

Dinner had gone off without a hitch after his chair fumble. If anything, his uncoordinated start seemed to set her at ease and then the banter flowed wonderfully.

Now he walked with her arm tucked in his elbow, taking her to her car and dreading having to say goodbye. He didn’t want to watch her drive off - too terrified she may not agree to see him again.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Emma,” he said as they came to a stop in front of a yellow bug. “Thank you for agreeing to come.”

“Thank you for dinner.” Her warm breath came out as steamy puffs of air on the chilly December night; but she didn’t make a move to open her car door.

His heart rate picked up as he realized she seemed just as hesitant as him to end their night.

“I know what I want for Christmas,” a shy smile crossed her face as she looked up at him.

“Well, I can’t offer you my lap out here in the snow, love,” he tucked an errant curl behind her ear and ran his cold finger down the line of her jaw, “But I’m all ears.”

She didn’t speak, just tugged on the lapel of his jacket with both hands and pulled his lips to hers. The cold was quickly chased from his skin as heat ignited from low in his belly. He groaned as the momentum from her tug pulled him into her - sealing her body between him and her car.

He buried his right hand in her soft curls and angled her head for better access while his left found purchase on her heavily clothed waist. She moaned as his tongue met hers in a tentative dance, heat quickly building between them.

He reluctantly pulled back but knew if he didn’t stop now, he likely wouldn’t be able to at all. She bit her lip against a grin before shocking him once more. “Will you go out with me again?”

“As long as you aren’t cooking, love.”

 


End file.
